


excuse me for awhile, while I'm wide eyed and so damn caught in the middle

by thekaidonovskys



Series: After the Drift [5]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, M/M, Mental Anguish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 15:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2030742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekaidonovskys/pseuds/thekaidonovskys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He keeps waiting for the first wonderful thought of the day to pop into his mind, the first thing that sends him bolting to the lab to write it down before he loses it… but it’s not coming. Not today. He knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	excuse me for awhile, while I'm wide eyed and so damn caught in the middle

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted by Tumblr user thekaidonovskys

It’s not the noise in his mind that scares him.

He’s used to noise, he thrives off it, works on half a dozen projects at a time as words and ideas fly in and out of his mind. It’s chaos that fuels him and keeps him going. As long as he’s too busy, too deep in thought, too wired to sleep or eat or care about anything but the things he loves, he’s happy. 

But there are days, the horrible days when he wakes up and it’s quiet. 

All the voices in his head are still, all the numbers and calculations and theories and experiments are gone. It’s as if there’s no life, as if he’s still asleep but part of him has woken up before it was supposed to. He can’t function, can’t  _live._

That’s what scares him. 

These are the worst days, and Newt’s just beginning one. 

His first thought is to call in sick, but he knows that won’t work like it used to. Hermann will insist on coming to see what’s wrong, on taking care of him, and as easy as it might be to feign this as sickness, Newt can’t do that to Hermann. You don’t lie to the people you care about. 

He’ll just go in, briefly, then say he’s off to the remains of the Kaiju black market. That’s not a lie, he just won’t be going in. He’s got a spot when he needs to get out of the Shatterdome and he’ll go there and just wait for his mind to come back to him. 

It’s an effort just to dress, though, and Newt’s hands shake. He keeps waiting for the first wonderful thought of the day to pop into his mind, the first thing that sends him bolting to the lab to write it down before he loses it… but it’s not coming. Not today. He knows. 

At least the quiet is better than the alternative. As long as Newt can keep a hold of himself, keep himself calm and uninterested, he’ll be okay. 

Otherwise it’s going to be a very, very bad day. 

Hermann’s not in when Newt arrives. He sees the note on his desk, carefully written, informing him that Hermann is out at a conference until lunch and to please not blow the lab up. He smiles slightly at that, still slightly amazed that they’ve reached the stage of notes like these, a state of constantly wanting to know where the other was and that they were okay. Not two months ago, Hermann wouldn’t have bothered and Newt wouldn’t have cared where he was (or at least claimed not to care, something he couldn’t quite do since the Drift).

Now he does, of course. 

Well, usually he does, but in the quiet even what he feels for Hermann is dull.

And that’s what trips the fear. 

It’s always something so innocent that does it - worry that he won’t be able to think, the quiet giving way to long hidden memories, just  _too much_ \- and Newt can’t do it, can’t handle it anymore, the quiet  _hurts_ and he needs it to stop. The quiet terrifies him beyond belief, but this time it’s more than ever before because he’s found something  _so fucking good_ now, now that the Kaiju are gone and his work is meaningless but he’s got Hermann, but even that doesn’t seem to matter. He can’t bring himself to care and that’s  _frightening._

This is what makes for the very,  _very_ bad days. And Newt knows that this one is going to be far worse than any before. 

The labs are empty. The whole floor is empty. He and Hermann are the only ones left down here - there are others, up top, still finishing up, just like they are - and the silence on top of the quiet is too much.

Newt screams. 

He’s pacing, yelling, throwing things, barely aware of anything but how the noise isn’t even  _touching_ the quiet inside, it’s still so slow and empty and  _scary_ and he’s shattering beakers and destroying reports (his, only his, even in the complete illogic of his mind he knows not to ruin anything of Hermann’s) and _crying_  and he can’t deal with it. It’s too intense, too much because there’s  _nothing_  and he needs something to ground him, something to bring the noise back and bring his  _mind_ back and -

Footsteps come flying in. “Dr. Geiszler!” comes a cry. “What’s wrong?”

Newt turns away, grips the desk, shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he barely manages. 

“It’s  _not_. Newt, what is it?”

“Don’t,” Newt begs. “Mako, please, just -” he trembles, needing to move and break things and  _scream_. “Just go. It’s all fine, I’ll clean it up before Hermann gets back -”

And then he loses his words, loses his breath because mentioning Hermann when he’s like this isn’t right, isn’t fair, Hermann’s  _name_ doesn’t deserve to be mixed up in this let alone any other part of him. 

There’s silence for a moment, then talking, but not to him. “I need Dr. Gottlieb released from the conference immediately,” Mako’s saying. “We have a situation… no, nothing to do with the Kaiju. It’s personal. Just get him out and down to his lab  _now._ ”

“No!” Newt yells, spinning to face her. Her eyes widen as she takes him in but he can’t care. “No, please, don’t, it’s okay, just don’t bring Hermann back, don’t worry him with this, it’s fine, I’m fine, I’m  _fine_  -”

“Newt,” Mako says with a gentleness he hates. “You’re not. I don’t know what’s going on but I know you and Hermann are close. I think he’ll be able to help.”

Newt turns away and begins pacing again, movements jerky and uncoordinated. “Not like this,” he mumbles to himself. “Can’t let him, not this, need to calm down, need to be okay, need to  _hurry up!_ ” He hits himself in the head, then again. “Come on, come  _on_ , just wake up -” and now he’s actually sobbing, disgusting and loud and he knows Mako’s watching but there’s no control anymore, no chance of making it okay because Hermann’s going to  _see_ and the anxiety’s winding up tighter and tighter until he can barely breathe -

And then there are hurried footsteps in the corridor, uneven and accompanied by the sharp tap that Newt knows too well. He freezes, then sinks to the floor behind the desk and curls into a ball. 

“Miss Mori,” he hears Hermann gasp out, breathless. “What is it?”

“It’s Newt,” she says quietly. 

“Where is he? What’s happened? Is he hurt?”

“He’s… behind his desk. I don’t know what’s happening but he’s bad, Hermann. Really bad.”

Newt closes his eyes, tries not to listen as Mako tells Hermann everything she’s seen. His breaths are coming short and sharp and he can’t move, can’t think, and the  _quiet_ echoes in his head as the words roll around the lab, as Mako tells Hermann just how much of a  _fuck up_ Newt is. 

And he’s hidden it so well until now. 

He zones completely, and when he returns Mako’s footsteps are leaving and Hermann is lowering himself to the floor next to him. Newt can’t bear to look at him. “Newton?” Hermann says quietly. “Can you hear me?”

Newt tries to nod but he’s curled so tight in on himself that he’s pretty sure it’s unnoticed. Words are useless, he can’t get in enough air for them anyway.

Hermann finds one of his hands, curled tight against his abdomen, and laces his fingers through it. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me,” he says.

Newt manages, barely. Hermann’s hand is simultaneously reassuring and frightening because he doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve to have Hermann here with him trying to calm him down when  _he’s_ the one so fucked up, so much of a complete mess -

“Good,” Hermann murmurs. “Newton, darling, I need you to breathe. Take a deep breath, just one.”

Newt tries. “Hurts,” he gasps.

“I know it does, and I’m sorry, but please try.” Newt tries again and manages, and Hermann squeezes his hand. “That’s it. And another one. It’ll get easier.”

He listens through the quiet, finds the sound of Hermann breathing, and listens to it, trying to match his own to it. It’s horrible and painful and shaky but at least he’s not hyperventilating anymore, not on the verge of passing out where everything’s  _really_ quiet and there’s nothing, just darkness, just -

“Hey,” Hermann says gently, and Newt realizes he’s begun panicking again. “Whatever it is, let it go. It’s okay now.”

It isn’t, but Hermann doesn’t need to know that, might let him get away with it if Newt pulls himself together, might not ask him to explain, and Newt focuses on that. It takes a few minutes but he’s finally calmer - not better, not when it’s still so  _quiet_  - finally uncurling his legs from his chest and letting his arms relax, still holding Hermann’s hand. Hermann squeezes it again. “Better?” he asks. 

Newt nods. “All fine now,” he says with a cheerfulness that can’t look anything but feigned, but that can’t be helped. “Maybe I should just go back to my room, get some more sleep, that’s probably the problem -”

He lets go of Hermann’s hand, half-rises, then promptly sits back down as the world tilts. Hermann’s arm is around him now, holding him in place. “Easy,” Hermann says. “You’re still lightheaded. Just sit still for a few minutes. And please don’t try to run away. Not from me.”

Newt sighs. “It’s okay, Hermann. Really.”

“You just had an anxiety attack, love, and judging from what Mako told me I didn’t even see the worst of it. It’s far from okay.”

“It will be if you let it go,” Newt says, almost begging. “Honestly. I’ll just go back to my room and by tomorrow it’ll all be over, it’ll never happen again, I promise, just -

“Newton.”

He stops. 

“Whatever is going on, it’s serious,” Hermann says, his voice gentle but determined. “Something triggered this, something made you afraid and out of control and I need to know. I need to know so I can try to help, and so I can understand. Seeing you like this scares  _me_ , and I need us to both be okay.”

Newt bites back a sob. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he whispers. 

“I know you didn’t, and I’m not blaming you in the slightest. I just need to know.”

“I… I can’t.”

He tries really really hard not to cry, but a few tears spill out anyway. Hermann wipes them away, his touch gentle. “Newton,” Hermann says softly. “Please trust me. Please tell me what happened.”

Newt looks away, squeezing his eyes shut against the burning that threatens more tears. “I just… I don’t - I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I wish you never saw that, wish you didn’t have to see, you don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve  _you_ -”

“Newton,” Hermann says again, this time a little sharper. Newt snaps his mouth closed. “Darling, of _course_ you deserve me. No matter what’s going on, you don’t have to be afraid that I’m going to judge or… or whatever you might be frightened of. Just please, tell me?”

He can’t  _not,_ after that. “It’s just - my mind,” Newt chokes out. “It’s crazy, I know I’m crazy, I hear it from everybody and you’ve always said I must be half-mental to work how I do and I am, I know I am, it’s just not the half that anybody  _sees_. Not until now,” he adds belatedly, his voice wavering. “It’s just… too much. Too much.”

Hermann rubs his back. “I’ve heard that it can get too loud inside people’s minds,” he says. “And sometimes it just all boils over -”

“No,” Newt interrupts, not caring about rudeness. “Not too loud, Herm. Too  _quiet._ It all just - just shuts down. Nothing’s happening, I can’t work, I can’t  _think_  and it… it  _destroys_ me.”

Hermann’s quiet for a second. “The yelling,” he says finally.

Newt wipes his nose with his sleeve. “Huh?”

“Mako said you were yelling… screaming. You needed the noise.”

“Yeah. It didn’t work but… I tried. And then I smashed up the lab and I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t -”

“Shh,” Hermann murmurs. “It’s okay. No harm done, as long as you didn’t injure yourself breaking anything?” Newt shakes his head. “Okay. We’ll clean it up later, when you’re feeling better. How’s your mind now?”

“Quiet. Empty. Bad. It’s all just gone, nothing matters, nothing seems right and… and even  _you_ didn’t matter. That’s what tipped me over.”

“I’ll come back to that. This happens often?”

“Let’s go with sometimes. Just… things just happen and then nothing happens.”

That’s actually the worst explanation ever, but Hermann amazingly makes sense of it. “It’s been a hectic few days, and your brain has been on overtime. Shutting down isn’t the most illogical thing that could happen if you’ve overworked yourself, which I fear you have. So it all goes quiet and then something pushes you over the edge?”

Newt nods. “The world just goes dull and my head is silent. Nothing matters. Sometimes I just sink into apathy but other times it… it frightens me. Or something frightens me.”

“But that doesn’t fill the silence? The panic, I mean?”

“It… it amplifies it.”

They’re scientists. Newt doesn’t need to explain further than that. “Okay,” Hermann says gently. “And the panic, it was me, this time?”

“Not  _you_. Me. Me not… not caring where you were or what was happening and I  _do,_ I care about you so much, Hermann, so fucking much, and I don’t  _ever_ want that to go away, not after what we’ve been through and not you, not ever you, I couldn’t handle -”

Hermann’s arms are around him and Newt’s sobbing into his chest, wild and uncontrollable. He’s probably ruining Hermann’s sweater but Hermann’s holding him tight and whispering reassurances and it helps, just enough, helps him to slowly -  _slowly_ \- reign himself back in. It doesn’t stop the quiet, not yet, still too soon for that, but at least he’s not alone. 

It’s when he breaks away and realizes that Hermann’s been crying that Newt freaks out. “Oh shit, Hermann,  _fuck_ , I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m so sorry, I can’t help it, I  _promise_ I care and as soon as this  _nightmare_ is over I’ll show you, I swear -”

“Newton!” Hermann cuts in over his babbling. “Newton, love, it’s  _okay_. I wasn’t upset because I thought you didn’t care - I know you care. I have the memories, and I trust you.”

Newt sniffles. “Then why were you crying?”

Hermann smiles wryly. “Because it breaks my heart to see you this upset. And you are not allowed to apologize for that,” he adds as Newt goes to do exactly that. “This is not your fault, darling, not one bit.”

Hermann always piles on the pet names when he’s trying to reassure Newt, and it always works, something so impossibly  _good_ about stiff and proper Hermann calling him  _love_ and  _darling._ “Okay,” Newt murmurs. 

“I don’t want to do anything to upset you further,” Hermann says gently. “You’ve already panicked far too many times today, and it’s dangerous. So I’ll just ask one more question if that’s okay?”

“Course it is.”

“What makes the noise come back?”

Newt shrugs. “Time, I guess? I mean, I try things, try to make myself think or work or… or loud music. Just to force some noise into my head. Or I watch dumb movies that don’t force me to think or I -” he cuts himself off.

Hermann frowns. “Newton?”

There’s probably no point in hiding things now. “When it gets really bad,” Newt says carefully, “I just sit on the floor and just… cry. For as long as it takes.”

“How long can it take?”

“Hours. I’ve spent a day there before. Sent you a message saying I was sick and then sat on the floor for nine fucking hours just wishing I could have my mind back, that I could come back to the lab and bicker with you and work on my experiments. But I couldn’t. I know it just sounds stupid, that I should just get up and work past it but -”

“But it’s not that simple,” Hermann completes. “I’m trying to think of what it would be like without the numbers in my head, and it fills me with fear. Of course you can’t do anything with it, and as painful as the image of you crying on your own for hours is, if it’s what has to be done then you should never be made to feel bad for it.”

Newt’s eyes fill with tears again, but this time of gratitude. Hermann doesn’t get it, not properly because nobody can without experiencing it (so Newt’s so fucking  _glad_ he doesn’t get it), but he’s making one hell of an effort to and that’s more than Newt’s ever had. “I really, really appreciate you,” he murmurs, the words sounding  _so dumb_ but it just sums up how he feels. 

Hermann kisses his forehead. “And I adore you, no matter how quiet or loud your mind is. I did say that would be the last question, but I also need to ask what you want to do now.”

Newt shrugs. “I’m out of energy.”

“You just want to sit, then?”

“Yeah. I mean, I can go back to my room so you can get some work done -”

“That’s not happening,” Hermann says firmly. “If you go, I’m coming with you, unless you desperately require the time alone.”

“I don’t. I didn’t want to ask but -”

“You’d like me to stay with you?” 

Newt nods. “I’m going to be awful company but just having you with me… it helps. And I don’t really want to go back to my room. I’d rather stay here.”

Hermann smiles. “Of course. Though we may have to shift to the couch at some point. Sooner, rather than later, if possible.”

Newt starts guiltily and immediately jumps to his feet to help Hermann up. “Oh fuck, Hermann, your _leg!_ ”

“No panicking, love,” Hermann reminds him gently. “It only twinges at this stage.” He gingerly puts weight on it, leaning on Newt, then nods. “I can still walk.”

He reaches for his stick but Newt doesn’t let him. “Let me help,” he says quietly. 

He knows it’s a touchy point, that Hermann is much more at ease using the stick than relying on somebody else, but he also knows he needs to feel useful, after all that. Because Hermann’s given him so much care and all Newt’s done is cry all over his sweater.

Hermann seems to get that. “Okay,” he says, putting an arm around Newt’s waist. “It’s certainly much better than it’s ever been, now that you make sure I take regular breaks and insist on bringing me my food half the time.”

Newt smiles a little at that because okay, yes, maybe he  _can_ be useful. He gets Hermann to the couch, fussing over him as much as Hermann will allow, then sits next to him. “You don’t have to stay,” he says halfheartedly. “I mean, you can go to your desk and work, I don’t mind -”

“Considering I currently cannot walk unaided, I don’t think so.”

“Shit, right yeah, I’ll grab your stick -”

Hermann stops him. “My point was I’m happily stuck here,” he says. “Newton, I am ready to sit with you for as long as it takes. Do you want to talk, or would you prefer not to?”

“I don’t really think I have words.”

He has  _words_ , obviously, but Hermann understands. “Okay. Let me know if it starts getting bad again, or if you need anything.”

Newt nods and lets his eyes drop to the floor. The silence fills him, but doesn’t overwhelm him, not with Hermann sitting right there. 

Now that the fear is gone, it’s just quiet, and Newt sits in it and does nothing. It’s an odd thing, doing nothing, thinking nothing, and it always feels so foreign, every single time this happens. His mind is not designed for quiet. His life is always loud and fast and brilliant, and his mind just goes with it. 

Until it stops. 

So they sit. For a long time, Newt doesn’t even know how long. He’s aware of Hermann shifting occasionally, making sure his leg doesn’t grow stiff, but there’s none of the usual pain signals so Newt doesn’t worry. 

He’s not sure how Hermann’s sitting so quietly, but reasons he’s probably working over something in his mind, one of his calculations. Newt’s a bit jealous, but reminds himself that it’s okay, that he’ll be back to himself tomorrow and he’ll be able to work out that the earlier Kaiju classifications can almost certainly be resolved by examining the fusion of -

Newt blinks. 

Then, instead of bolting off to write down the thought (it’s weak anyway, needs a lot more working), he throws his arms around a surprised Hermann. “I figured out the significance of the secondary arms,” he says.

And Hermann, wonderful  _incredible_ Hermann who usually wouldn’t give two fucks about Kaiju arms, understands. “Well done, darling,” Hermann murmurs. “Does it come back slowly?”

Newt nods. “It’s like waking up after sleeping for a day straight - takes a long time to put everything back together. Don’t expect any miracles from me today.”

“You are a miracle,” Hermann says, so seriously that Newt blushes. “Is there something you would like to do now? Or are you still content to stay here?”

Newt looks pointedly and shamefully around the lab. “Gotta clean up the mess. It’s gonna take me awhile.”

“Us,” Hermann corrects. “It won’t be too bad. Why don’t you grab the broom and I’ll see how many of your reports can be salvaged.”

Newt kisses him. “Thank you, Hermann,” he says, and hopes that it’s clear that his whole heart is in those words. “Really. You’ve been amazing.”

“You’re very welcome. But Newton?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time, tell me? I can’t bear to think of you suffering like that alone again.”

Newt nods. “I will,” he says, and he means it. 

Hermann smiles. 

***

Newt whirlwinds into the lab the next day, a bagel hanging out of his mouth and coffee in each hand. He drops one on Hermann’s desk, the other on his own, then grabs one of his folders and scribbles something down, counting something else out on the other hand as he does. He checks a figure in a report, adds it to a page he’s tacked to the wall, then finally sits down to finish his breakfast.

When he looks up, Hermann’s watching him, smiling softly. “What?” Newt mumbles, hastily swallowing his last mouthful. “Have I got something on my face?”

“No. Just… you.”

“I’m on my face?”

Hermann rolls his eyes. “You’re back,” he clarifies. “I never realized until yesterday how vibrant you are.”

Newt can’t let that one go. He swings out of his chair, over to Hermann’s desk and leans over it to kiss him. “I’m so goddamn grateful to have you,” he says, standing back up and bracing himself. “And I did say I’d show you how much I care once I was back.”

Hermann shakes his head. “Newton, I never believed for a second that you didn’t. You don’t have to -”

“Iloveyou.”

Hermann freezes. It’s almost comical. 

“You don’t have to say anything or… or say it back,” Newt says quickly after a few seconds of silence. “I mean, no pressure. I just wanted you to know. That I… love you. A lot, apparently, might even be too much at times and - Hermann?”

Hermann’s pulling himself out of his chair, using the desk to support him as he makes his way around to Newt. He stops just in front of him, staring. “Can you… say it again?” he finally asks.

“I love you,” Newt repeats quietly. 

Then Hermann’s on him, kissing him furiously and Newt’s holding him up, trying to be careful of his leg and not just go weak at the knees because it’s so  _rare_ for Hermann to initiate something like this and even though Newt’s heart is still lodged in his throat in fear, he goes with it. 

When Hermann pulls away suddenly, Newt’s worry trebles, but it’s only to realize he looks slightly bashful. “I believe I did that in the wrong order. Am I correct in that I was supposed to tell you I love you in return first before kissing you?”

“… did you just - no, that was definitely a hallucination.”

Hermann smiles. “Newton, darling, have I not been calling you  _love_ for weeks? Of course I love you, I was just wary of being too forward.”

“Please don’t be wary, ever again.”

“I have no intention of doing so, love.”

And now that the word holds so much significance that Newt’s only dared of, he pulls Hermann back and kisses him again. His mind hums happily, working over the last twenty or so times Hermann’s called him that, as well as absently wondering if he can get Hermann to spend the night in his room. 

His mind doesn’t go blank when he’s being kissed (or fucked, for that matter), not like some people say it should, but that’s good. Better than good. The quiet is overrated. The world is there to be thought about, and love is more than just an emotion. 

And who knows, perhaps the next time the quiet invades, the knowledge that Hermann loves him might stay to keep him calm. It seems like a pretty solid anchor.

**Author's Note:**

> Newt’s mind is my mind - a bit wild, always running, four or five ideas at once - and I wrote Newt from a very personal and real place. If it feels like disjointed and jerky writing, it’s simply because that’s the feeling. His whirlwinding in this last section is me constantly, and his quiet distress is thankfully only me occasionally, but still happens. I still believe in a Newt who gets too wound up and spins into anxiety attacks, but I also think this would be a real nightmare for him.
> 
> Title from "Strong".


End file.
